Step Up
by Balek
Summary: Scott Tracy - Field Commander. Gives orders to be obeyed. Alan Tracy - Astronaut and General Dogsbody. Must obey orders given. But, on what seems to be a routine mission out in space, Alan finds out that roles can and will be reversed. In space, no one can hear you complain.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N - It's been waaay too long since I wrote something shorter. Although I'm starting to think this may end up longer than I had anticipated. We shall see!**

**Disclaimer - Thunderbirds are property of Gerry and Sylvia Anderson, not me.**

**BTW this is set after one of my other stories, Hello Gravity, Old Friend, but you don't need to read it to understand this one, it just elaborates on why John can't go along.**

* * *

A hand flew across the keyboard and Mars zoomed past on the screen as the image moved into the asteroid belt beyond it. As one of the larger asteroids spun around a spaceship, the_ Infinity,_ could be seen parked on its surface, and it was on this that the camera focused.

"There!" John said triumphantly. "See, told you I would find it."

Over his shoulder, Alan, his carbon copy and younger brother, snorted as he peered at the screen. "Oh come on, I could have found that in half the time!"

"Quite possibly..." John chuckled. "But you do have the advantage kiddo. You have use of both hands." He lifted up his left arm, the forearm of which was encased in plaster, lasting evidence of his run-in with gravity on the family snowboard trip three weeks earlier and it had been annoying him ever since. Not only did it make every single thing he did twice as difficult, it also itched like hell.

As he stuck his fingers under the edge of the cast, trying desperately to scratch an itch which was just out of reach, Alan leaned over and tapped on the keyboard, changing the image on the screen to a map which showed a wider view of the solar system, as well as both the _Infinity_ and Thunderbird 5.

"Still all good?" John asked, opening a nearby drawer and patting around inside for something that would fit under his cast, grinning as he pulled out a long, thick cable tie.

"Yep. Another half hour or so and we can be off." Reaching down, Alan snatched the cable tie out of his brother's hand just before he could stick it under his cast, much to John's annoyance. Twirling it in his fingers, he used it to point to the curved flight path drawn between the two vessels. "It's a straight run along here, get a speed boost as we go around Mars, and we should arrive right next to them in just under six hours. Simple."

"Simple." John agreed, resorting to sticking his fingers back under his cast. He sighed. "Oh, I wish I was coming with you. It's not very often I get a chance to have a look at NASA's new ships anymore, let alone get to have a poke around in them. Especially the _Infinity_. That thing is the pride of the fleet. The first workable prototype of ships with the capability to allow humans to leave the solar system."

"I know. What are the chances that it gets struck by a rogue meteor and has to do an emergency landing on it's maiden voyage? Still, gives me a chance to fly Three further than this place, she needs a long run." Alan said, before sighing deeply. "I wish you could come. It'll be loads more fun with you along, but... it looks like I'll have to settle for the alternative instead." He looked behind him as, right on cue, the sound of bootsteps echoed along the corridor ring and Scott appeared in the control room from his most recent walk around the station.

"Will you quit doing that?" John snapped, spinning around in his chair to face his only older brother. "You're gonna wear a hole in the deck plating with all that pacing of yours!"

"How much longer are we going to have to stay here?" Scott asked, wringing his hands nervously. "I mean, surely the rock the _Infinity_ is on position by now."

The two of them rolled their eyes. "Not much longer now, Scott." Alan replied. "I don't know, you have no problem with shooting around the world in an aircraft going multiple times the speed of sound but if you have to go further into space than Thunderbird 5 you turn into a gibbering wreck!"

"I am not a gibbering wreck!" Scott exclaimed indignantly. "It's just... after that near-disaster with the Sun Probe, I've come to realise that even the tiniest thing happening can leave you stranded a very long way away from home, with little to no chance of escape. So I'm just a little uneasy, that's all."

Alan shook his head in despair, leaning forward and resting it on John's shoulder, muttering just loud enough for the older blond to hear. "I've got six hours there and six hours back with this guy, not to mention replacing the tank itself... Honestly... International Rescue's Field Commander, scared of a little space mission!"

Twisting awkwardly, John managed to pat Alan on the head with his good arm. "Good luck kiddo. If I could have come with you, I would have done. Now could you please get Scott out of here? He needs something to distract him and if he keeps pacing around here much longer I'm gonna break my other arm by punching him extremely hard!"

"Yeah, ok." Alan muttered, straightening up and moving towards the pilot. "Come on Scott, let's go make sure Three's ready to fly, we'll be leaving soon."

"About time..." Scott grumbled as he was steered towards the airlock.

"Er, Al, can I have my cable tie back?" John asked hopefully, his arm was _really_ annoying him now.

"Nope! It's mine now." Alan replied cheerfully, waving the aforementioned piece of plastic in the air before popping it into a pocket. "You never know, it may come in useful." And with a clang and a hiss, he and Scott were gone, having moved into the red rocket docked outside.

"Great..." John moaned, turning back to the control panel, once again attempting to ignore the burning itch that seemed to spread under his cast. He flicked a few switches and looked at one of the blank screens next to him, waiting for his hail to be answered. He didn't have to wait long.

"Go ahead John." His father, Jeff Tracy, head of International Rescue, answered as he appeared on the screen.

"Three will be leaving within the next half hour. The asteroid the _Infinity is on _will be reaching it perigee in just under five hours, which, if Alan follows the flight plan, will mean they will meet up right where they are meant to."

"Excellent. I'll get onto NASA and tell them the good news then." Jeff nodded.

"Still doing favours for your mates there?"

"Well, only one of them. Jason Yorktown in fact."

"Jason Yorktown?" John spluttered. "The head of NASA himself?"

"The one and only." Jeff grinned. "We keep in contact from time to time. We started there at about the same time you know. Did quite a few missions with him. He stayed on after I quit, climbed his way up the ladder and the next thing we know he's head of the whole thing. And when I heard about the problem with the _Infinity_ I called him up and offered our services. After all, we do have a rocket on permanent standby, we can get there quicker than they can."

"You...offered our services?" John said slowly, not quite believing what he had just heard. Wasn't his father's first rule not to reveal their involvement in International Rescue to anyone, friends or not?

"Oh don't worry about it." Jeff laughed. "He's trustworthy. He knew about this thing from the start. In fact, it was him I used to spout off my crazy ideas to about this when we were on the really long missions. Plus, he also my main contact for getting spare parts for all the Birds. Without him, keeping this operation afloat would be a hell of a lot more difficult. Besides, I owed him a favour."

"Oh. Ok then."

"Now, is there anything else?"

John thought for a second, remembering something. "Oh, yeah, there is. Is Virgil free?"

"I believe so. Last thing I remember is that he was 'helping' Grandma make some brownies."

"Read as, trying to get his paws on them so he can scoff them all!" John laughed.

"Got it in one! If you don't mind me asking, why do you need him? Is your wrist causing you trouble?" Jeff asked, his brow furrowing slightly with concern

John quickly pulled his fingers out from under the cast, having not even realised that they were under there, his subconscious had been trying to stop that damned itching again. "Oh no, it's fine. I just need to tell him something that's all. I'll call his watch up now, I'm sure Grandma will be glad of the distraction!"

"I'm sure she will." Jeff agreed. "I'll talk to you later then. Base out." He flicked a switch his end and cut the connection, the screen going blank. Pulling his sleeve as best he could over his cast, John pressed a button, connecting him through to his immediate younger brother.

"Hiya John." Virgil answered, and John couldn't help but notice that he had a large red mark on one cheek. "How's the arm?"

"Itchy..." John admitted. He grinned, cocking his head to one side. "I'm guessing your brownie thievery was unsuccessful then?"

Virgil's other cheek turned red with embarrassment. "Yeah. Grandma got me really hard with her spatula..."

"I can see that. I so hope that bruises."

"I love you too..." Virgil muttered sarcastically, rubbing at his cheek. "Now, was there anything you wanted, or did you just call me up to take the mickey?"

John leaned back in his chair. "Have you noticed recently that Scott has been avoiding space missions? He only comes out as far as Five now."

"Now that you mention it, yes! Ever since that whole 'passing out and almost flying straight into the Sun' thing from that Sun Probe mission."

"Well, it would seem that it's simply because he's scared."

Virgil's jaw hit the floor. "Scared?"

"Yep. Mr 'Tough Guy' Scott Tracy, 'I'm not scared of anything' Tracy, Field Commander Tracy, is scared of a simple space mission to replace a fuel tank. Nothing else, nothing more!"

"What...what is he scared of?" Virgil stammered, still gobsmacked.

"God knows..." John sighed. "But all I know is he's jumpier than a flea and almost wore himself a path through to the gravity plating with all his pacing. I've managed to convince Al to take him back to Three, he was getting on my nerves."

"Sure that isn't just the itchy arm talking?" The medic chuckled. "Still... fancy that. Scott scared of a little space mission... Those things are probably a hell of a lot safer than some of the stuff he gets up to down here."

"I know. Do you reckon we should tell Gords?" They looked at each other for a moment, before bursting out in laughter. "Who am I kidding? Oh course we should!"

"Shall I or shall you?" Virgil said once he had stopped laughing.

"You do it." John said. "I need to contact the _Infinity_ and let them know Three will soon be on her way."

"You do that. I'll track down Gords. When he gets back, Scott is going to wish that he stayed in space."

"What? And leave his precious Thunderbird in your hands? No chance! He'd come back even if fire and brimstone was raining down!"

"True, true." Virgil nodded. "He is a tad overprotective of One."

"And you're not when it comes to Two?"

"You can talk!"

"Yes, I can, can't I? I talk way too much for my own good, especially when I have work to do. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a spaceship to get a hold of."

"All right. Let me know when Scott and Alan are on their way home will you?"

"Will do. Five out." The screen went blank again, leaving the space station in silence aside from the ever-constant hum of machinery that kept it going. Spinning in his chair, John's good hand moved across the various control panels. This call was a lot more technical to do than a simple one home, but with the advanced technology that was available on Thunderbird 5, it wasn't too difficult as long as you know what you are doing.

"International Rescue to _Infinity_." He said into the microphone, grateful of the advances that had been made in the field of spacial communications, at least there would be no delay, unlike in the early days of space exploration when it took anywhere from 15 to 25 minutes just for radio waves to reach Mars, let alone beyond it into the asteroid belt where this stricken ship was.

"This is the _Infinity. _We're reading you loud and clear." The reply came a few seconds later. "It's good to hear from you."

"And you. How is the situation over there?"

"It could be worse. That meteor seemed to come out nowhere and ripped a gash right along our primary fuel tank. We managed to set down before we vented all our fuel but we cut it close. Thankfully our life support and operational systems run off the reactor we've got in here, and as far as our two engineers can tell, that's not damaged, so we're just marooned.

"Any injuries as a result of the impact?"

"No sir, all seven crew members are safe and accounted for."

John let out a silent sigh of relief. Yes, he had already been told the crew were safe, but there was nothing like getting the confirmation yourself. "Well, you'll all be glad to know that Thunderbird 3 will be launching soon. It should be with you in just under six and a half hours."

"Well, that's excellent news! I'll tell you on thing, you guys are certainly efficient. If it weren't for you, I'd reckon we'd be drifting for a week before NASA even launched anything!"

John chuckled in agreement. He had worked for NASA before leaving to join his father's organisation, he knew first hand that nothing was ever done quickly, not even when needs dictated it. The paperwork involved for one thing... "It was a coincidence really. We had a rocket, your guys had a spare tank. Oh, and apparently, according to my, er, boss, we owed you a favour."

"Just as well I suppose. It means we can get going sooner rather than later."

"That's what we hope to achieve. Now, my two colleagues in Thunderbird 3 will be in contact with you once they enter the asteroid belt. They plan to land about a kilometre or so away from you and use the hover lifts to walk the tank over to you. If your engineers could assist them, I'm sure the job will be done before you know it."

"I'll inform them to get ready and start getting into their spacesuits. Thank you International Rescue."

"You're welcome. It's what we're here for. Now, if you have any further problems, don't hesitate to call."

"We'll keep that in mind. _Infinity_ out."

The speakers fell silent once again and John sat back and looked out through the viewing window out into the vast expanse stretching out beyond the space station. His eyes instinctively rested on Mars, which from here seemed to be nothing more than a large bright star. Perhaps Scott had a point, he thought. When home was nothing more than a speck of light in the distance, the simple hope of rescue could seem extremely far-fetched.


	2. Chapter 2

Alan chewed the end of his stubby pencil as he pored over a set of complicated trajectory calculations. As he was puzzling over a one of the more confusing formulae, the control panel in front of the empty co-pilot's seat off to his side started beeping.

"Scott could you get that?" He asked, waving a hand at the panel, not looking up from his scribbles. "It's just the hourly engine checks, just hit the button."

It took him a second to realise that there was no sound of movement from behind him, and that the panel was going unanswered.

"Scott? Get that would you?" He said a bit louder. The big lug couldn't have fallen asleep, could he?

But there was still no movement, and the beeping continued on unabated.

"SCOTT!" He yelled, spinning around in his seat, to be greeted by the sight of an empty cockpit. He was the only one in there. Letting out a deep sigh of defeat, he tucked his pencil behind an ear, stood up and then went around to the panel, hitting the flashing red button to initiate the hourly engine checks. That done, he leaned against the head-rest of the vacant chair, looking back to where he had been certain Scott had been, but evidently was not.

"Where have you got to, you idiot?" He muttered to himself as he thought, trying to work out where the Field Commander had disappeared off to. The last thing he remembered was Scott saying he was nipping to the bathroom, but that was, a quick check of his watch, yep, over an hour ago. Man, either that guy had eaten something that _really_ disagreed with him, or he had snuck off somewhere else.

Moving back to his chair, The Captain's Chair as he liked to call it, he flopped down into it and looked down at the pile of papers that made up his calculations that were strewn across any available surface. Mathematics were never his strong point, that was more John's area of expertise, he was much more of a hands on kind of guy. In fact, he decided, why not just let the computer figure out the trajectory needed to slingshot around Mars instead? Though he'd hate to admit it, it would probably do a better job of it than he would. A lot quicker than he would too. Yes, he could and would usually do it, but this time he had other things to do, like track down a wayward brother for one.

Sweeping the sheets of paper off the panel and onto the floor in one fell swoop, he activated the rocket's internal sensors, and on one of his many screens a deck plan appeared, showing one life-sign in the cockpit, and- aha!- one in the cargo hold. So that's where he was hiding.

Inspecting the many readouts around him, and content with what they were showing, he activated the auto-pilot. They wouldn't be entering Mars' gravitational pull for a few more minutes yet, he didn't really need to be behind the wheel until then. Then, after tapping in the calculations for the computer to get to work on, he bent over and picked up the discarded papers, leaning over and dumping them in an untidy heap on the co-pilot's chair, before standing up and making his way into the lift that would take him down to the cargo bay, slipping his pencil back into his pocket as he did so.

A minute or so later he arrived in the cargo bay, and as the doors hissed quietly open, he immediately saw Scott with his back to him, fiddling with the spacesuits that they would need whilst they were out on the asteroid.

"You know, you can't hide down here for the whole trip." He said, leaning against the open lift doors. "For one, things are gonna get a bit bumpy not long from now."

"Oh, Alan!" Scott replied nervously, dropping the suit he had been holding. "I was just, er, making sure that all the these things are ready to go."

Alan shook his head before making his way over. "The spacesuits are fine, you know that, we both checked them before we left. But, if it'll make you feel better..." He bent down and picked up the suit Scott had just dropped, holding it out in front of him. "See, seams secure, boots and gloves securely fastened on." He lifted up the right sleeve, which had a small screen attached near the wrist. He activated it, and it lit up, showing a full and green gauge. "Oxygen tank full to the brim, and..." He reached up and grabbed a helmet from the shelf above him, quickly and expertly attached it onto the top of the suit and clicked the air hoses into it. "...helmet seal and hoses in perfect working order. Trust me, these things are the best suits you can get anywhere. I bet you the NASA guys will be drooling when they get a good look at these things."

Scott couldn't help but reluctantly agree. Having not one, not two, but three astronauts, former or otherwise, did mean that they wouldn't have settled on anything less than perfect when they had designed them. But he couldn't shake the feeling in his gut, something just wasn't sitting right with him, but he did his best to push it down and forget about it.

At seeing his older brother nod, Alan grinned and thumped him heartily on the back. "That's more like it! See? Nothing to be afraid of. Now, we're about to swing around Mars, and I need a co-pilot, so get yer butt back up to that cockpit before I carry you up there!."

Scott couldn't help but smile slightly. Fancy that! His little brother, giving him orders! "Ok, ok, I'm going! But just remember, kiddo, who your Field Commander is."

"And you remember that this is my ship, and so therefore you follow my orders. And right now, I order you to stop worrying and to get up to that cockpit. So get!" He planted his boot on Scott's rear and propelled him towards the lift. Pausing to hang the suit back onto its hook, he followed behind and swung an arm around his brother's shoulders. "Besides, the slingshot manoeuvre is awesome! You basically head straight towards the planet like you're going to crash into it, but you tweak your trajectory slightly so that instead of its gravitational effect pulling you down, it pulls you _around_ instead and spits you back out into space, giving you a speed boost in the process!"

"That's not making me feel any better..."

"Oh come on, it's great fun. Engines firing; G forces pushing you into your seat; everything rattling around you. It's like the best roller-coaster ever!"

"With you behind the wheel? We're more likely to burn up in the Martian atmosphere!"

"Oh ye of little faith! Besides, it's no different from when you do those sudden banking turns in One. I've almost lost my lunch on quite a few occasions."

"Ah, now that, little brother, may have been the idea!"

* * *

John was just finishing off a much needed cup of hot chocolate when the panel next to him started flashing. Right on time. Placing the empty mug down on the console, he hit the comms button and connected through the call.

"Go ahead Alan."

"Thunderbird 3 has cleared Mars and entered the asteroid belt successfully." Alan reported, before giggling slightly. "And Scott screamed like a little girl!"

"I certainly did not!" Scott retorted in the background. "Don't listen to him John, he's lying!"

"Don't worry Scott, I believe you." John chuckled. Just wait until he filled Virgil in on this latest development! He studied the map on his screen. "You should be coming up on the _Infinity_ now. It should be on the largest asteroid at about bearing 285 degrees."

"I see it." Alan replied. "I'll hail them as soon as I've adjusted course."

A thought suddenly occurred to John. Why hadn't he come up with it earlier? "Hey Al?"

"Yeah?"

"You remember that external camera system Brains installed a couple weeks back?"

"What about it?"

"You don't reckon it would come in useful for us to have a live feed of what you are doing at our end?"

"In other words, you want to have a good look at this spaceship of theirs..."

John scratched his wrist absently. "Well, yes, I do. But I'm sure Dad would like to see what's going on with his own eyes, instead of having to rely on me relaying everything to him."

Alan had to agree with that logic. "I suppose... Yeah, why not? I'll activate it just after we land, we'll finally see whether or not it works over such long distances."

"Ok, speak to you then, Thunderbird 5 out."

"FAB."

* * *

**A/N: I promise that things will start to pick up in the next chapter. Trust me, they will!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Wow, this is one long chapter. But, it'll be worth it, I promise!**

* * *

"What a beaut!"

"Why thank you John." Alan grinned as he wriggled into his spacesuit. "But I asked how the cameras were working out, not about how handsome I am!"

"Oh shut up Al! You know I'm talking about the _Infinity._" John retorted.

"Yeah, you flatter yourself too much." Scott joked as he zipped himself into his suit. Alan just harrumphed and continued wriggling.

"Still can't understand its shape though..." John mused over their earpieces. "Bulbous at the top and then half way down it tapers into a long thin cylinder... It's nothing like I've seen before."

"Well, perhaps if we get the time, we'll ask them." Scott said as he sealed his helmet in place. He wiggled his fingers behind him. "Hey Al, could you hook me up?"

"Sure!" Alan zipped up the last pocket in his suit and took a hold of the two air hoses that fed from Scott's streamlined backpack that held the oxygen tank and locked them into the ports on the back of his helmet. Once he was sure they were secure, he put on his helmet and turned around so Scott could do the same to him. Tapping the controls on their arm panels, they tested their air supplies. Satisfied all was still in working order, they activated the torches built into their helmets. They would need to see where they were going. Nodding at each other, they walked towards the large fuel tank sitting in the middle of the hold, already resting on the hover lifts. They activated them, and, with ease as it now weighed almost nothing, pushed it into the large cargo airlock. Sealing down that bulkhead, Alan tapped on the controls and the faint sound of hissing started up as the air was removed from the airlock. Now it was their turn, and together they walked into the smaller personnel airlock not far away, Scott trailing slightly behind. If he could have reached his fingernails, he'd probably be chewing them about now. That uneasy feeling in his gut was nagging away at him again.

With a clang, the airlock door was closed behind them and Alan tapped on the controls to remove the air.

"Now or never." He grinned at Scott, his slightly distorted transmitted voice filled with excitement.

"Good luck guys." John said in their ears. "I'll be keeping an eye on you. Five out."

A faint click in their ears indicated that John had cut his connection. It was just the two of them now. "Hey Scott, have you ever been in low gravity?"

"No, I don't think so." He replied. "The gravity plating on both Three and Five have robbed me of that experience." To be honest, it was this part he was looking forward to the least.

"Oh, it's amazing." Alan laughed. Above the outer door, the red light turned green. "Watch." He hit a button and the door silently opened, revealing a bleak rocky landscape beyond. With a whoop of joy, he took a few steps back, taking a run-up and leaping just as he reached the door. He shot up into the air and did a triple front-flip before landing gracefully on his feet and bowing to a non-existent audience.

"Come on Scott!" He beckoned. "You'll soon get used to it!"

Scott took a deep breath and stepped out, the door automatically closing behind him. "Whoa!" He was immediately found himself hit by a wave of vertigo and tripped. Alan caught him and held him up as he stumbled around like a drunkard, trying to find his balance. After a minute or so, he got his bearings and straightened up.

"Well, that was...interesting."

"You wait until we go back in there." Alan said, pointing towards the bright red rocket looming over them. It certainly seemed a lot larger out here than it did when it was in the silo. "You'll feel like someone's tied lead weights to your internal organs!"

"I wish you hadn't told me that..."

"Come on."

They walked around to the outer door of the cargo airlock, and Alan gestured for Scott to control the door while he pulled out the tank. With that out, and after Scott double-checked that Three was locked down, although he knew that it was very unlikely anyone but he and Alan would try and get in, he looked around him. "So, which way?"

"I'd say over there." Alan replied, pointing towards a rather unmissable metal object off in the distance, although, in Scott's defence, it was mostly hidden behind the Thunderbird.

"Ok then, let's go before I change my mind." They started walking, the tank following behind them, controlled from a remote that Alan was holding. "How far is it?"

"Just over a kilometre. A gentle stroll really, no mountains to contend with, just a few craters here and there, so watch your step."

As they walked, they talked about nonsense stuff; reminiscing about past rescues; laughing about Gordon's failed practical jokes, and the successful ones, all sorts. And as they strolled along, the ship on the horizon continued to grow in size

It was only when they got nearer the _Infinity_ that they understood the full scale of the ship. Side by side it would have dwarfed Thunderbird 3, it had to be at least double both the height and the width, and as John had observed earlier, quite a strange shape, it was quite obviously made out of two parts, with the top bulbous bit locked into the tapered lower section. Covered as it was by a myriad of shiny metal plates, it was an impressive sight, even with the jagged gash running down it. As they walked into the shadow cast by the ship, an outer airlock door halfway down the upper section opened and a suited figure waved out at them.

"Boy, are we glad to see you!" A woman's voice, evidently belonging to the suited figure, crackled in over their earpieces.

"International Rescue, at your service!" Alan replied cheerfully, waving back. Scott tried to look up as well, but the sight of all the other asteroids floating around in the distance above his head made him feel nauseous. Instead he took the remote off his brother and busied himself in bringing the tank to a complete stop, bringing it close to the the gash in the hull, putting the bulk of the ship behind him to block out the sky above.

"I wouldn't stand there if I were you." The woman said, and he quickly jerked away from the ship as if it were on fire, making her laugh. "Oh, don't worry, it won't bite. I just didn't want you to get hit when I did this."

In front of him, the join between two of the hull platings started to grow wider as they retracted and from underneath, a ladder slowly emerged, running the full length to the open door. Once it had locked into place, the suited figure started to climb down towards them.

"I was wondering how you were going to get down from there." Scott commented. "But I certainly didn't expect a ladder to appear from nowhere."

"Different isn't it? Personally I think whoever designed this forgot all about the airlocks and had to just put them wherever they would fit on the final design." She jumped the last few rungs of the ladder and turned to face them, and they saw through her helmet that she was a relatively young and beautiful woman. She held out a gloved hand to them. "Emily Sark."

"Scott."

"Alan. Good to meet you."

"Are you the Chief Engineer?"

"Oh no, no!" She giggled. "I'm the assistant engineer. The Chief is still in the airlock." She looked upwards and let out a dramatic sigh. "Lukas! Are you going to be checking over that damned tool-kit all day? International Rescue are down here, and we don't want to keep them waiting do we?"

"All right, all right!" A defeated voice crackled in over their earpieces, and another suited figure, with a toolbox attached to his waist emerged out of the airlock and started down the ladder. Once he had made it down, he turned to them and introduced himself.

"Lukas Mecall, Chief Engineer. I see you've already met Emily."

"Indeed we have." Scott replied as he shook another gloved hand. "I'm Scott, and this is Alan."

"Ah! Alan!" Lukas exclaimed, wrapping a friendly arm around the young blond and steering him towards the damaged plating. "Your colleague, er, John, did he say his name was, mentioned that you were just the man for this job."

"Did he now?" Alan murmured with amusement. He'd have to thank John for that later. "Hell of a scrape you got here." He said, nodding towards the damage.

"Oh, I know! But, you have you hand it to our navigational officer, she got us out of immediate danger in the little time we had."

"It's nice to be wanted..." Scott muttered as he watched the two of them already engaged in animated conversation, tuning his earpiece to block them out.

"Oh, he's always like that." Emily laughed, doing the same to her comms. "He likes having the opportunity to teach people a thing or two.

"If there's something Alan doesn't know about rocket engines, I don't want to know about it. It's already bad enough having to be out here..."

"You don't like being in space?"

Scott sighed. "Well, no, not really. It just makes me feel uneasy, that's all."

"Oh, I love it." Emily grinned. "I don't know what it is, but being surrounded by so many stars, I just find it so relaxing!"

"I have a brother who would agree wholeheartedly with you..."

They looked back to Alan and Lukas, who now were flitting back and forth between the ship and the replacement tank, taking measurements and working out the best way to carry out the repairs. Scott decided to leave them to it, they didn't seem to need his help. "Tell me, the _Infinity_? Who came up with the name?"

"Oh, that was Nikolai, our Captain by the way. He's a fan of old animated films and from what I can gather, it came from the phrase _'To infinity, and beyond.'_ Said by someone called Buzz?"

"Aldrin?" Scott asked. He knew his astronauts. After all, thanks to his father, he and his four siblings were named after members from the Mercury missions back in the 1960's.

"No. No. His name was Light-speed, or was it Light-year? I haven't a clue, but that aside, I thought it made a fitting name. The rest of the crew agreed too."

"Who else is in the crew?"

"Well, there's Nikolai Garen, Captain obviously. Then there's Casey Smith who's the Navigational Officer. Daniel Rendle, Communications Officer, he's the one you talked to on the radio. Arron Oturson is the Scientist and then Lukas and I keep the whole thing running. Or at least, try to."

"Sounds like a fun group." Scott nodded, before realising something didn't seem right. A quick mental jog soon confirmed that. "Hang on, that's only six of you. We were told there were seven."

"Huh? No, there's definitely only six... Oh!" Emily suddenly laughed. "Yeah, I suppose we have to take George into account as well."

"Who's George?"

"He's George. He's an African Land Snail."

Scott's jaw dropped. "A snail? Your seventh crew member is a snail?"

"Sorry, that would be Dan's twisted sense of humour. I'll tweak his ear over it later. I can't believe he would actually say that! Officially, George is our mascot but we sorta gave him a field promotion as a joke, off the record of course. We gave him a title too, Chief of Ooze, I believe it was..."

"Ok... You said that the crew all agreed on the name. Did, er, George, also give his opinion in the matter?"

Emily laughed again. "Well, he did escape from his tank and leave slime all over the main control panel... We took that as a yes!"

Scott couldn't help but laugh too over the absurdity of a large snail not just travelling around the solar system in a spaceship, but travelling around as a part of the crew, with a title and all.

Once they had regained their composure, they noticed that Lukas, tool in hand, had started climbing back up the ladder, while Alan dug through the kit on the ground, looking for a suitable tool.

Scott tuned his earpiece back to the communal frequency. "Whoa, whoa, hold on. Alan, what are you doing?"

Alan started to groan before he remembered that in his haste to get to work, he had completely forgotten one of the main rules for being out in the field. Always inform your Field Commander of anything you intended to do regarding the mission and get their complete approval before you got under-way. "Sorry Scott. The damaged fuel tank is behind here. We need to take this plate off to get to it." He rapped his knuckles against the sheet of metal in question, although it made no sound, as there needed to be air for sounds to be produced in the first place.

"Is it safe? To remove an entire section of hull plating, I mean?"

"'Course." Lukas assured as he started on releasing the bolts that held the top half of the plating in place while Alan did the same on the bottom ones. "This thing is double hulled, that way we can reach the engines and make repairs on them out here without de-pressurising the inside. Beside, this bit is already ripped open, taking it off won't make any difference."

"Very well. Proceed." With the approval they needed, the two got to work.

Scott sneaked a peek upwards again. He was starting to acclimate to the fact there were large rocks just floating around above him, he wasn't feeling so uneasy about them as he had been before. The _Infinity_ was just as imposing as ever though. "You know, if you take into account her quirks, plus the snail crew member, she's quite an interesting ship you've got here." It wasn't a patch on the beauty of Thunderbird 1, but he wasn't about to say that right now.

"She's not bad is she?" Emily replied, coming to stand next to the Field Commander. "She could use some improvements but, after all, there's bound to be a few things not quite right. That's why we were out here, to test everything out and find what needs to be changed for when they build the fleet of them and we really do leave the solar system."

"I see. Forgive me for asking, but what's with the odd shape? Especially that bit?" He pointed at the join between the two distinctive sections.

"Ah, now that is the beauty of the _Infinity_. It's the same sort of idea as the lunar landers from the 1960's. You see, all the living quarters, cockpit etc. are in the top bulbous section, whilst all the reactors, engines and other potentially dangerous bits are in the bottom section. That way, if something goes terribly wrong, say, the engines overload, we can just hit the emergency release and the top bit goes shooting off away from the danger. There's a small engine in the top section you see, plus there are a multitude of batteries to run the life support and other systems so we'd get home, just at a slower pace than normal."

"George pace?"

"George pace!"

And once again, they found themselves laughing with each other. Only this time when they finally stopped, they found Alan standing in front of them, with his arms crossed his chest and a foot tapping impatiently. Scott cleared his throat sheepishly and quickly tuned his earpiece back.

"If you two are quite done giggling like schoolgirls, _Commander_,we need a hand or two to get this job done!"

"Ah, yes, of course. Sorry."

Joining in with the repair effort, they helped get the panel off, and then over the course of the next hour, following the directives of Alan and Lukas, they disconnected various tubes and computer systems, removed the old empty fuel tank and replaced it with the spare full one. It was exhausting work, and while the other two replaced the plating again, Scott and Emily leaned against the side of the ship to recover their strength, the other two started to replace the panel again, the panel, which Scott noted, still had a large gash in it; nobody had made any mention of repairing it.

"Shouldn't you replace that too?" He asked, pointing towards it as the last bolts were put in place.

"Usually, yes." Emily admitted. "But, we don't have a spare, and unless you forgot to take it out of your ship, neither do you. So, this one will have to do."

"Won't it cause a problem on re-entry?" Scott may not have been an astronaut, but he knew that having even the tiniest breach in the outer hull of a ship was deadly upon re-entry into the Earth's atmosphere, the ship would simply disintegrate. In fact, on Three, on top of their own checks, they even got John, or whoever was manning Five at the time, to scan it to confirm that it had nothing that could cause such a catastrophic occurrence before they started their descent.

Emily waved away the concern. "Nah. We'll just use the engines to get home, and jettison them once we're in orbit before we start re-entry. Base might not be too happy we left half the ship behind, but under the circumstances, I'm sure they'll understand."

"I'm sure they will. And if they don't, well, I'll see whether our Commander can't tweak their ear a bit..."

"I thought you were the Commander?"

Scott let out a single laugh. "Not quite! I'm the _Field _Commander. Out here everyone answers to me, but back at base, I'm just another lowly minion."

"Lowly minion... Ha!" Alan muttered sarcastically as he put his tool away, making Lukas chuckle. These two were something else! In fact, he thought, the way they acted with each other, they could have almost been brothers. But then if you worked in such a secretive organisation as International Rescue was, then your colleagues would become a family of sort.

Their earpieces crackled slightly and a young woman's voice filled the airwaves. "Luke?"

"Yeah Case?" The Chief replied, chucking his tool back into the kit.

"I've just run a diagnostic on all our systems and it's sending up an alert from the ignition sensor on engine four. It's misaligned. I just thought, maybe while you were down there..."

Along, drawn-out moan came from the engineer. "Oh... why now?"

"What's wrong?" Alan asked.

"Sorry, I'm just tired, that's all. Don't get me wrong, I love this ship, but she does love to throw up the small annoying things just went you'd rather be putting your feet up."

Alan looked towards Scott, who, knowing exactly what the silent query on his brother's face was, just nodded back, resigned to the fact that while they were here...

"Tell you what." The blond said, patting the two engineers on the shoulders. "I'll fix it for you. You two go back inside and put your feet up, have a cup of coffee or two."

"Are you sure?"

"Sure. No problem. I know my way around rocket engines, I bet you I'll have that sensor re-aligned and ready to go before the kettle's even boiled!"

"He's not kidding!" Scott exclaimed. "When it comes to engines, he's the man!"

"Oh, you are lifesavers!" Lukas said with relief. He pointed to the engine to his right. "This is number four engine. There's an access panel just on the other side of it, it'll slide up quite easily. You'll need to climb inside. Once you're in, the sensor is above you. You won't miss it, it's bright red."

"Leave it to us." Scott assured.

Lukas gripped Scott's arm in gratitude, rubbed the top of Alan's helmet gratefully, clipped the tool-kit back onto his waist and jumped onto the first rung of the ladder in one fluid movement and climbed up. The two Tracys looked at Emily with bemusement, who shook her head and shrugged.

"As I said, he's always like that." She smiled and started climbing as well. "Let us know when you're done ok? We'll talk to you later!"

"Yeah, bye!" Alan gave a wave. He turned to Scott. "Come on, let's get this done and we can head back."

"Thank goodness for that..."

They walked around the engine in question and soon located the access panel. It slid back easily, just as Lukas had said it would, revealing a space crammed full of all sorts of stuff, ranging from circuitry to pipes and everything else in between, with a gap barely big enough for a person to get into right in the middle of it.

Alan whistled. "Ooh, that's gonna be a tight fit!"

Scott had to agree. Even without the suit on, he doubted he would even have enough space to breathe in there. "Rather you than me kiddo! Good job you haven't eaten any of Grandma's brownies today!"

"Yeah. I could use her supply of lard right about now though..."

"Don't worry. If you get stuck, I'll pull you out. After I've stopped laughing of course!"

"Of course..." Going in head-first, Alan squeezed his way inside. He managed to stand up, his body compressed on all sides, and located the sensor in question about 10ft above him. He wriggled around a bit more and managed to get his arms above his head, using them to pull himself up. Outside, Scott watched his brother's feet leave the ground, accompanied by a lot of grunting and muttered curses.

"You need a hand in there?" He asked, popping his head inside, narrowly avoiding a boot to the face. He was still amazed at the volume of everything. While this wasn't the first time he'd seen something like this; all five Thunderbirds had their own spaghetti junctions hidden under their shells after all, but the sight before his eyes made those things look tame.

"Nah, I'm good." Alan replied, finally getting himself into position. "It's a pretty simple fix. It shouldn't take too long, I've tracked it down so I just need fiddle with it a bit."

"Oh, ok then. Keep your comm on at all time. If you need me, I'll be here."

"Mm-hmm."

Feeling like he was intruding, Scott looked back outside. The ladder had slid back under the hull and the light had gone out in the airlock, evidently the two engineers had got back inside safely.

Casting his eyes around him, he spotted a small flat-topped protrusion sticking out of the ground about 25m away from the open panel, and, as he had nothing else to do, he wasn't going to go back to Three and leave Alan on his own, he decided instead to have a sit-down and think about the things that Scott Tracys think about.

Once he had got over there, he inspected it for sharp spikes or anything similar that could potentially rip his suit. Happy that there was nothing of the sort, he carefully sat down, mindful that he didn't pull or catch his air lines as he did so. The last thing he would want to do was breach his suit, especially in such an embarrassing way. The guys back home would never let him live it down for one thing.

A slight crackle in his ear alerted him to an incoming communication, and a few seconds later Emily's voice came over the comms. "Hey Scott?"

"Mmm?"

"Is Alan fiddling around with the reactor down there?"

"Not that I know of. He's just reached the sensor. Why?"

"Lukas says that the output is fluctuating. I'll put it into a reset loop; see whether that will fix it." The sound of keys tapping filled the airwaves. "Hmm, odd..."

"What is?"

"That didn't work. It usually does. In that case..." The tapping started up again, with Emily muttering nonsense as she worked. Then suddenly, alarms started blaring and her voice filled with panic. "Scott! I can't stop it! The reactor's about to overload! You need to get out of there!"

His heart jumped into his throat as he realised what was about to happen, and he leapt to his feet.

"ALAN! GET OUT OF THERE!"

Adrenaline coursing through his veins, he ran as fast as he could towards the _Infinity_, impeded though he was by his space suit and the low gravity. He reached into the open panel, grabbed his brother by the leg and pulled him out. As soon as Alan was clear, he threw him as far away as possible. For the astronaut, it was a very disorientating few seconds. One moment he was happily fiddling with some wire, Scott and Emily were chatting away, probably flirting in his opinion, but he had been mentally blocking them out, so he wasn't quite sure. Then suddenly there was an alarmed shout and the next thing he knew he was spinning over the ground like a Frisbee. He hit the ground, only to bounce off and sail high into the air again. He hit the ground and bounced off a few more times like a rag-doll before he finally landed face-down in a small crater. Moaning, he shifted onto his elbows and lifted his head, just in time to realise what was about to happen.

"SCOTT!"

With a blinding flash, the _Infinity's_ emergency boosters kicked in and shot the top half of it into space, followed not a split-second by another as the reactor in the the lower half overloaded and exploded into a big fireball, sending shrapnel out in all directions, with his brother still stuck right in the middle of it.

"Scott...No!"


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Sorry this took so long. Why is it that as soon as I get to the good bit in a story that I always end up having to do extra hours? So yeah, I did not intent to leave you hanging for as long as I did! Honest.**

* * *

450,000,000 KM closer to Earth, all Hell was breaking loose up on Thunderbird 5. After all, it hadn't been just John who had the live feed from the long-range camera mounted on the side of Thunderbird Three. Oh no.

Not only was there a live stream being fed straight to the Lounge on Tracy Island, there had also been, after a bit of tweaking to mask its relay origin, one going straight to NASA control. Which of course meant that everyone had seen the massive explosion before the feed went dead, and as a result all attention suddenly focused on the one man they all seemed to think had all the answers, even when he didn't.

"No, Dad. I can't get a hold of them and there's nothing from the _Infinity._ There's nothing more I can tell you."

Jeff opened his mouth to say something.

"And I don't know what happened either." John snapped, and, taken aback by this uncharacteristic behaviour, Jeff just silently closed his mouth and buried his head in his hands, leaving the blond to frantically press buttons and flick switches with one hand, trying to keep alive the hope that this whole incident wasn't as bad as it had seemed, that any second now Scott and Alan's portraits would spring into life and their faces would appear on them and everything would be fine. But as the seconds slowly ticked by, that hope started to blacken and falter.

Meanwhile, while Virgil paced backwards and forwards across the lounge, muttering nonsense to himself, Gordon sat frozen on the sofa, not having moved an inch since the explosion.

"John?" He croaked, surprised at how dry his throat had become. In fact, he felt sick to his stomach.

At hearing the hoarse voice, John looked sharply towards the screen that showed the feed from the lounge, and he made an effort to soften his face as he saw how worried Gordon looked. After all, he too could not deny what he had seen with his own eyes, and that made his heart feel as heavy as lead.

"Look Gords, I'm sure-" He started to soothe, only to be cut off by his comms panel blaring at him. He looked at where the transmission was coming from and let out a groan. Reluctantly, he flicked the switch to connect it and was almost immediately bowled over by the speed and intensity of the questions fired at him from yet another person high up in NASA. Once he managed to actually get a word in edgewise, he repeated what he had already told to countless other people. No, the comms had yet to be re-established but yes, it did look like the _Infinity's_ emergency boosters had got it away in time. Cutting off that connection, he let out a long moan and plonked his head straight onto the control panel in front of him.

"John?" Gordon whispered, his brow still creased with worry and concern.

Turning his head so he was facing the screen, but not bothering to lift it off the panel, John took a deep breath and looked the aquanaut straight in the eyes, steeling himself for what he was about to say. "Look, Gords, I'll tell you the truth. I would love to say they're fine, that they're walking back to Three right now laughing their heads off at how much we're worrying about them. Trust me, I would love to, but I can't. They're hours away, we have no way of getting to them. Hell, we don't even know if they're alive. And if, God forbid, the worst has happened out there, then we're just gonna have to keep soldiering on."

Gordon sniffed and a single tear rolled down his cheek. John inwardly cursed what he had just said. Yes, it was probably the right thing to say, but it was nowhere near what needed to be said. And as he lay there, the comms panel started blaring again, and he glared at it for a second before begrudgingly reaching to answer it, sending up a silent prayer as he did so. He so hoped that miracles did exist, because he had to admit, that seemed to be the only way left that he could see his brothers getting out of this.

* * *

There had been no fire. To burn, a fire needed oxygen, and there was none of that around this godforsaken rock, so at least that was one thing he supposed he had to be grateful for. But the fact there had been no fire after the explosion still didn't make his search any easier. His search for Scott.

He stumbled over a rock, almost falling in his haste to reach the wreckage, all that was left of the engine half. Debris lay all around, ripped and twisted, and he knew that somewhere under all that was his brother. But where?

His breath rasped in his ears, the only sound he could hear. His suit comm must be down, he couldn't hear John nagging in his ear. That guy would have had the feed from that camera on the biggest screen he had on Five, there was no way he would have missed that explosion. Even if he hadn't been watching, he would have picked it up on his scanners, so it was safe to say that the rest of the family probably knew what had happened by now, and that would mean a barrage of questions in his direction later. Wonderful...

_There! What was that?_ As he had moved his head, the torchlight from his helmet had picked up a weird shape amidst a pile of wreckage. Whilst everything else was sharp and jagged, he was certain that this shape had been more round, almost like...

A boot! There it was! It was a boot, barely visible under a pile of shrapnel, but he instantly recognised the shape, he was wearing two of them himself. It was an IR spacesuit boot. Scott's. He scrambled over to it, instinctively praying that it was still attached to the rest of the suit, and then swallowing hard as the very thought that it wasn't made him feel nauseous. But when he grabbed it, it twitched ever so slightly in his hand, and he let out a whoop of joy.

"Scott!"

He glanced over the debris covering his brother, calculating the best way to get to him. He grabbed the top-most piece of twisted metal and, with difficulty, pushed it off. The pieces underneath were smaller, and he threw those behind him with ease, working his way down the pile. After what seemed like an age, he finally uncovered Scott, flat on his back, unmoving, the visor of his helmet obscured with dust.

With one last heave, the large hulk of the support girder that had been pinning Scott down landed with a silent thump on the ground, and Alan wasted no time in kneeling down next to him. He grabbed his brother's helmet, bringing his own down to rest on it. With the suit comms down, this was the only way they could communicate. If they touched helmets, their voices could be heard by one another as the vibrations were transmitted through the material.

"Scott. Scott! Do you read me?"

No answer. He wiped a gloved hand across the visor, scrubbing off the dust and uncovering a crack that arched through the glass.

Bringing his head down again, he squinted through the tint on Scott's helmet, his breath catching in his throat when he finally saw his sibling's face. Scott was conscious, but only barely. His mouth was flapping like a fish out of water and his eyes were rolled back under flickering lids. It could only mean one thing, he was losing oxygen. He had a suit breach.

Swearing loudly, Alan shot bolt upright, his eyes and hands searching desperately over Scott's suit for any sign of the breach. It couldn't be the crack in the visor, he was certain of that. Just like a wind-shield, the visors were laminated glass, which meant that they would stay together if they cracked, they would not shatter and cause the atmosphere inside the suit to be lost. It had to be elsewhere. He had reached Scott's right leg when he saw it, a small stream of dust being blown away off to the side. Pulling the suit material taut, he swore even louder when he uncovered a large rip just blow his brother's knee. So that was where the leak was.

He had to act fast. Scott didn't have much longer. He had to seal the rip, but with what? He looked around him, but with no luck, he couldn't see anything suitable. Patting down the pockets on the outside of Scott's suit, still nothing. But then he remembered. Of course! He unzipped the pocket on his left forearm, his fingers shaking and clumsy, and pulled out none other than the very long cable tie he had confiscated off John back when they had been on Five all those hours ago. He had forgotten to empty his pockets earlier when they had been suiting up and instead of going all the way back to his locker, he had just decided through laziness to put everything into the external pockets instead.

"Sorry about this..." He muttered, looping the tie just above the knee and pulling it tight, painfully tight he knew, but it had to be to form a good enough seal.

But that was only one problem solved. He may have stopped the oxygen leak, but there was no way that Scott had enough left in his tank to survive. A quick glance at his wrist-mounted screen confirmed that. The oxygen level had long since gone down past the critical level, it was verging on totally empty. And so there was only one thing left to do, they would have to share the remaining tank.

Laying down in the dust, Alan reached out and sealed off the nearest port on the back of Scott's helmet and pulled off the useless air line. He then reached behind him and sealed off one of his helmet ports. Now this bit he had to do quickly, to minimise the air loss during the transfer. In one swift movement, he pulled the line out of his helmet and shoved it into the free port on Scott's. Locking it into place, he undid the seal and felt a slight change in air pressure as his tank adjusted to support two people. He pressed his hand against his brother's chest, relieved when he felt through the suit it rising and falling steadily. He was breathing. Against all the odds, he was alive.

But their problems didn't end there. Alan checked his oxygen gauge and did a few mental calculations. He had had plenty of air to get back to Three on his own, with some to spare, but now there were two people on the same supply, they would scarcely make it. And that was with Scott being uninjured and able to walk.

Which meant he would have to wake up first.

If he ever did...


	5. Chapter 5

Silence.

Save for the sound of his breathing, there was nothing but silence.

Surprising how loud it could be.

He felt, to put it bluntly, terrible. His whole body ached, his right leg a lot more than the rest of him, almost as if something was wrapped tightly around it. In fact, he felt as if he had fallen down a cliff. He probably had, the ground beneath him was uneven and rocky after all.

He had to be dead, he decided. He must be, he felt somewhat lighter than he remembered being before.

Although surely if he was dead, everything shouldn't hurt at all.

He opened his eyes, to be greeted by something very weird. His head was completely encased by some sort of hard plastic, with a grubby and cracked visor directly in front of him, through which he could vaguely see a black sky with hundreds of large rocks floating around all over the place. Hmm, not what he had expected an afterlife to look like. For one, although he would never admit it to anyone, he had been half expecting to see his mother's smiling face looking down on him.

Then with a jolt, everything fell into place. He hadn't fallen down a cliff, or anything so mundane. And he certainly wasn't dead. The rescue, The _Infinity,_ the explosion. Alan.

"Alan!" Damn his aching body, he had to find his brother. The last time he had seen Alan, he had been sailing over the ground after he had thrown him clear. He threw out an arm, intending to roll over and push himself up, inhaling sharply as the dull throbbing in his right leg suddenly spiked. But as he started to move, a heavy weight pressed him back down. Something, no, someone was holding him down.

He lashed out, hitting out at whoever it was. His fist made contact, but the pressure holding him down did not waver. Clearly whoever it was had no intention of letting him go.

"Scott!" The voice sounded weird, but almost familiar. He paid it no attention, he had to get free.

"Stop moving! You're gonna kill us both!" A hand caught his wrist as he lashed out again.

"Scott Tracy, I order you to be still!" Somewhere from within him, his old military self heard the commanding voice and took control, and he all but snapped to attention. When it was clear he was not going to attempt to wriggle free again, the pressure holding him down lessened.

Once he got his bearings a bit more, he finally realised who the voice belonged to, and his heart leap with joy.

"Alan?" He asked.

"Afraid so!" His brother's slightly distorted voice came not through his earpiece as he expected, but from the material of his helmet itself. A moment later a helmeted, grinning face moved into view. "Good to have you back!"

"Oh, Alan!" Scott let out a sigh of relief. His brother seemed no worse for wear from being thrown. The beginnings of a black eye perhaps, but he doubted he looked much better judging by the way he felt. But he couldn't help notice that Alan was leaning in very close, in fact, their helmets were touching. Ah, suit comms must be down, hence why Alan's voice had sounded so weird, he was using their helmets to communicate. "Are you all right?"

"Me? You're asking me if I'm all right?" Alan laughed incredulously. He should have known. This was Scott after all. "But yeah, I'm fine. Few bumps and bruises, but otherwise, I'm good. How are you feeling? Does anything hurt? Broken?"

Scott groaned. "My leg..." It was throbbing intensely.

"Forget the leg." Alan ordered, making Scott frown. What had happened to his leg? "Anything else? Neck, back, anything?"

Scott checked himself out, trying to ignore the throbbing in his leg. It made it difficult to determine if anything else was wrong, but after a few tentative movements, he came to a conclusion that he had been extremely lucky. "No, no. I think I'm ok. Just gonna be _really_ sore in the morning."

"Good! In that case, let's get you sitting up."

"Al." Scott pushed away the arms that wrapped around him. "What about my leg?"

The blond sighed. "It's probably easier if you see for yourself."

"But..."

"It's nothing gruesome, I promise."

Scott relaxed slightly and allowed himself to be helped into a sitting position. He had had visions of a mangled leg, it having been ripped off in the blast, all sorts. But as Alan seemed quite calm over the whole situation, he decided that he was just letting his imagination run away with itself.

Once he was up, the full scale of the wreckage around him took his breath away. There was twisted metal and shrapnel everywhere. How on Earth had Alan managed to find him? Then he looked down and he saw the reason why it felt like there was something tight around his leg. Mainly because there was. A thick industrial cable tie was fastened just above his knee, and just above what was clearly a large rip through his suit.

Alan leaned in and they touched helmets again.

"Is... Is this John's cable tie?" Was all Scott managed to say. He had so many questions, yet none seemed to be able to form themselves into coherent sentences. He was quite simply, gob-smacked.

"Yeah, it is. Thank goodness I nicked it off him. Sorry about the tightness by the way, but you were losing oxygen."

"H-how much oxygen?" He stammered, realisation sinking in at how close to death he really had come. He had been unbelievingly lucky in all aspects.

"Pretty much all of it. So much so, we're tag-teaming." Alan nodded towards his brother's helmet.

Scott lifted his hand up and traced the single air line back to his brother. "Oh man. So you weren't kidding earlier then? About me killing us both if I didn't quit moving?"

"Nope! You were just about to rip your air line in half, and then that would have meant both of us losing our air."

"Oh God..."

"Don't worry about it. I'm just glad I managed to make you see sense. I don't know, imagine me having to give you an order! Just wait till Gords hears about this!"

Scott chose to ignore that last part. "Do we have enough air?"

"To get back to Three you mean? Barely... But as long as we stay calm, take shallow breaths and stop talking, we'll be fine."

"Great..."

"On that note, let's get going. Come on."

With a bit of help, Scott slowly got back onto his feet, both of them making sure to stay close to each other so they didn't accidentally pull either air lines out. They looked around for the distinctive red rocket.. Alan saw it first, it's nose cone just about visible over the horizon. He patted Scott with his hand and pointing towards it. With a thumbs up back, they slowly picked their way across the wreckage and rocks towards it.

As they progressed in silence, both concentrating on their breathing, Scott was thinking. With a sneaky glance at the air gauge on Alan's wrist, he did a few mental calculations and came to a harsh conclusion. Contrary to what Alan had said, they didn't have enough air, they just wouldn't make it. Not with the two of them sharing one tank. But if it was just the one of them...

"I'm sorry about this Al." He muttered, glad that the comms were down. He didn't want his baby brother to realise what he had done until it was too late. Reaching up behind him, he closed the valve on his helmet, cutting off his air supply but preserving Alan's. Then he moved his hand to open the valve on the other port, to vent the remaining air in his suit in one quick burst. Hopefully he would be dead before he hit the ground. Taking one last deep breath, he closed his hand around the control, and after sending out a silent apology to his family, started to turn it.

Only to have his hand snatched away and pinned to his side, and a helmet practically slammed into his.

"What the hell are you doing?" Alan yelled, his face red with fury as he locked down the vacant port and re-established Scott's air flow. "Are you completely mad?"

"I should be dead anyway! At least this way you can get back!" Scott retorted. "Don't deny it, you know as well as I do that there's not enough air for the both of us."

Alan's nostrils flared. "I am not leaving you out here. I did not save your life just so you could throw it away on some stupid attempted heroics! We are getting back to Three. Both of us. Now move, that's an order, and let me worry about our air supply."

With that he turned and stalked off, leaving Scott to meekly scurry behind him, his head held low in shame. Now that he had time to think about it, the more stupid his plan began to seem.

But ultimately, Alan knew, Scott was right. But angry with him as he was, he would never leave his brother behind, not even if it meant a chance that he could save himself. Either they would do this together or they wouldn't do it as all.

But as Thunderbird Three slowly grew in height on the horizon, they soon started to feel the effects as the remaining air started to run thin. First their suit atmosphere became stuffy, and then their limbs began to feel heavy and their heads started to spin.

Three was completely visible, no more than a kilometre away when Scott stumbled. Alan caught him and threw his brother's arm around his shoulders, half carrying him. But as the air grew ever scarcer, Scott grew heavier and heavier, and Alan felt weaker and weaker. But he kept his focus on the writing on the side of Three as it grew larger and clearer. They could make it. They would make it.

They were almost there when the oxygen ran out completely. Taking one last deep breath and now dragging Scott with him, Alan powered on as best as he could. He stumbled and clanged into the side of the rocket, his world spinning. He pulled himself around it to the airlock and felt around for the button to open it. To his relief, he found it and the door slowly hissed open.

With one last effort, he dragged the Scott's dead weight through the doorway, the sudden increase in gravity causing his knees to finally give out and dumping them both on the floor. With extreme effort, he pulled himself up and slammed his hand against the control panel, closing the outer door. As the edges of his vision started to fade to black, his fingers somehow managed to find the button to release the emergency burst of oxygen into the airlock. Not even waiting for the panel to confirm that the oxygen had been released, he broke the seal on his helmet and ripped it off, letting it dangle behind him as he took in deep, gasping lungfuls of the cool air. Scrabbling over to Scott, he did the same, throwing the cracked helmet behind him where it clanged around noisily. He didn't care about that, all he cared about right now was Scott, and Scott had stopped breathing.

"Come on Scotty, breathe. One more time. Don't give up on me now." He rasped as he tilted his brother's head back. It was just then that he realised that his voice wasn't the only one in the room, there was another coming out from the inbuilt speaker in the wall, professional but with an unmistakable worried edge to it, and, upon recognising it, he rushed to hit the button to connect to it.

"...can hear me, please respond. This is a repeating message. Scott or Alan, if you can hear me, please respond. This is..."

"John!" He practically shouted with relief as he searched for a pulse on Scott. It was weak and thready, but it was there.

"Alan!" John's frantic reply came. "What the hell happened? Are you all right? Where's Scott? Is he ok?"

Right at that very moment, Alan brought down his hand, hard, and thumped Scott right in the chest, and was rewarded by what he currently considered the most beautiful sound in the world, a gut-wrenching, hacking cough, which just so happened to be exactly the reply that John had so hoped for judging by the whoop of elation that came over the radio.

"Scott's gonna be fine." Alan sighed with relief, leaning against the curved wall behind him, still gasping for breath. "We ran out of air just before we got back in." He coughed. "He saved my life John. And despite his own fears about being out here, he was willing to go on and sacrifice himself to save me..."

"That's Scott for you. Now, would you care to tell me what happened out there? I've got not just Dad, but at least half of NASA chasing my tail for an explanation, and I would really like to shake them off."

"Can't that wait for later?" Alan groaned, feeling weak from the oxygen deprivation. "At least until we've gone through decompression? I did hit the emergency air after all, not to mention dragged Scott halfway across an asteroid..."

"I guess it can." John replied. He could understand how his baby brother was feeling. The emergency air supply did do its job, which was to supply immediate oxygen, but the sudden rapid change in the atmosphere did have the unfortunate after-effect of making whoever was in the airlock feel extremely sick and disorientated. And that was before you added in the increased gravity. "I suppose I can try and get in touch with the _Infinity _instead. We still haven't heard from them."

"Their main communications system was in the lower half, it'll take a while for them to get the secondary grid operational. They should be in contact soon enough. Daniel and Emily will make sure of that."

"Ok. Give me a call as soon as you feel fit to do so. I try to make up something to calm Dad. Really, you should hear some of the stuff coming out of his mouth, Al, I'm thinking of recording some of it. Five out."

"I look forward to it." Alan laughed weakly in the silence. He closed his eyes in exhaustion and leaned his head back, just as Scott on the floor let out a long moan and rolled over onto his side.

"Oh man.. I feel like I'm going to hurl..."

"If you do, you're cleaning it up..."

"Al... I'm sorry... You know, about earlier... About being already dead...?"

Alan waved away the apology "Don't worry about it. You weren't yourself. Just... Don't even think about doing anything so stupid ever again, Agreed?"

"Agreed..."

They both stayed like that in silence for a while, letting themselves acclimatise. Once his nausea had faded somewhat, Scott dragged himself towards the wall and sat up, mirroring Alan's position across the airlock.

"Al, you wouldn't have a penknife handy would you? He asked after a while.

"Huh?" Alan lifted his head and cracked open an eyelid.

"For the cable tie." Scott pointed to his leg to where the strip of plastic was still tightly secured. "It hurts like hell."

"Oh... Right." Alan patted his many pockets, eventually unzipping the one on his chest, pulling out a Swiss army knife, which he skimmed across the floor to Scott. "Here. Don't cut yourself."

Scott picked it up and attempted to open it up, his clumsy gloved hands making it difficult. Failing at that, he unzipped the top portion of his suit and slowly wriggled his shoulders and arms out of it. Once his hands were free, he attempted to open the knife once again, this time succeeding. He wedged it between his leg and the cable tie, immediately slicing the plastic in two, letting out a loud sigh as the pain disappeared and he felt the blood start to flow once again. "Oh, much better! I swear you carry everything but the kitchen sink in your pockets sometimes."

"Yeah, I know..."

They lapsed back into silence again, Alan feeling like he could sleep for a month and Scott rubbing his leg to relieve the tingling in it. The comm on the wall sounded again, but this time it wasn't John.

"This is _Infinity _to Thunderbird 3. Thunderbird 3 come in."

Alan hauled himself upright and hit the button. "Dan the Man! Just the person I want to hear from!"

"You're all right! Thank goodness!" Daniel said, relief evident in his voice. "We just spoke to John and he said he had heard from you but, the scale of the explosion, we didn't know what to think. Is Scott..."

"I'm fine." Scott interrupted. "Sore and got a stinking headache, but still in one piece."

"We both are." Alan finished. "Is everyone on your end ok?"

"Yeah. The blast-off took us a bit by surprise but we're all accounted for. Ooh, hang on, the Captain wants to speak to you." There was the sound of shuffling on the other end of the line before another man's voice came on, this time slightly deeper with a hint of an accent, but Alan couldn't place it. "Gentleman."

"Captain."

"Please, please, call me Nick. You've done enough for us that I think we should move past the formalities."

"Very well. How's the _Infinity_?"

"Not too bad. The emergency booster worked as you saw; thanks to Lukas and Emily the secondary system are coming online. George has gone into hiding in his shell though..."

"Ah. Well, we'll send him a lettuce in the post when we get back to Earth as a way of apologising."

"Why not bring it yourself? Once we're back on solid ground you're welcome to come visit us at base. We'll be grounded for a while now anyway as there's bound to be test after test to determine what happened, not to mention the reams of paperwork..."

"Oh tell me about it." Alan groaned. He too had a report to fill out and submit relating to this rescue, and while he loved being a part of International Rescue, he hated paperwork with a passion. Thankfully, his father knew this and wouldn't insist on a lengthy report, he would still want a couple of pages at least. He looked at Scott, who was still sitting on the floor, but looking a bit livelier than he had done. "How about it? Fancy a trip to NASA?"

"Yeah, why not?" He shrugged. "We'll have to bring John along with us though. He would kill us if we left him behind..."

Alan grinned and turned back to the comm. "Do you have room for three?"

The Captain laughed. "Yes, yes. Your colleague can come too. Bit of space nut is he?"

"That's putting it lightly..."

"Very well. We'll contact you when we've landed back on Earth and arrange a date. We'll have to clear it first, but after today, I very much doubt that will be much of a problem."

"We look forward to it. I hope you have a pleasant and uneventful trip back."

"As do we. _Infinity_ out."

The comm clicked off and Alan turned back around to Scott. "You feeling up to getting out of here and getting all the way out of that suit?"

"Whenever you are." Scott replied, grabbing his helmet with one hand and the hand offered to him with the other, and for the second time in one day being hauled onto wobbling feet. Alan hit the button to open the inner door and they made their way inside towards the changing area. Once he had got the suit off a few minutes later did he truly see the full scale of the rip, he could easily put his whole hand straight through it.

"You know, we need to find a way to seal any suit breaches." He said, running his fingers along the crack in his helmet visor. "Maybe some sort of layer with expanding foam in it and once it's been broken it seals the hole and sets."

"Hmm. It's probably possible." Alan mused. "We'll get Brains on it. I'm sure he'll come up with something, as long as you're happy to be a guinea pig as well as John and I."

"Sure. I'd be happy to."

"Ah, so not scared of space anymore then?"

"Well, they do say, to overcome your fears, you have to face them. I certainly did that. After all, it's only cold, airless and infinite. What's there to be scared of in the first place?"

They both laughed at that. "Come on." Alan said, putting away the last of the equipment. "Let's go speak to John, and of course, calm Dad down at the same time."

Scott grabbed Alan's arm and held him back. "Hey, hey, hey. Your days of giving me orders are over. I'm the Field Commander here, I decide what we're going to do."

Alan rolled his eyes but couldn't help the hint of a smile creeping onto his face. "Fine. What do you suggest we do know, oh mighty _Commander_?"

Scott made a show of thinking for a moment, stroking an imaginary beard. "Hmm, well, in my expert opinion, I say the best course of action would be a hot shower, a bite to eat, and then we'll talk to John. After all, he did say not to do so until we were fit. What do you reckon?"

At that, the smile on Alan's face grew into a face-splitting grin. "I think I could go along with that."

"Good. In that case then, come on."

"Last one there gets all the cold water!"

"Oh no you don't!"

Laughing and jostling, they made their way out of the cargo bay and deeper into the rocket towards the facilities, both of them elated to have escaped relatively unharmed from the incident, and of course, happy to still have each other around to tease and race to the shower at the end of a rescue.

After all, what else were brothers for?

_Three weeks later_

Virgil and Gordon were relaxing in the lounge along with their father when the sofa sitting in the middle of the room retracted into the floor to be replaced a second later by an identical one, but this time with three people sitting on it.

"Ah, the travellers return." Jeff said, looking up from his newspaper as they stood up. "I see you've been given the all clear John. He nodded towards John's wrist, which for him had thankfully been released from it's plastery confines, having fully healed over the last six weeks.

"Yeah, at last!" John grinned, rubbing at it. "Just as well. I would have hated to not been able to climb around inside some of those spacecrafts."

"And climb around he did..." Scott murmured. "He disappeared inside faster than a rat up a drainpipe!"

"Good to know you had fun at NASA." Jeff said. "Did anyone say whether they had solved the mystery of why the _Infinity's _reactor exploded in the first place?"

"No. They reckon it was a result of the meteor strike, but they still need to carry out more tests. Emily blamed herself for it, at least until I took her out to lunch!"

"_We_ took her out to lunch." Alan pointed out. "Along with the rest of the crew if you remember. Or were you too busy making lovey dovey eyes at her to notice? Well, I suppose you did once she revealed that she and Lukas were..."

"Yes, thank you Alan!"

Jeff's eyebrows raised and he raised his newspaper to hide his amusement. Behind him, Gordon stuck his tongue out in mock disgust.

"What have you got there Al?" Virgil asked, nodding towards the mysterious object that Alan was carrying, a large box covered up with a cloth, wanting to move the subject away from his brother's failed love life.

Alan grinned, placing it on the desk. "Oh, you're going to love this! Ta-da!" He whipped the cloth off with a flourish, revealing the glass tank underneath and they all craned to see what it contained.

"A snail?" Gordon asked incredulously as he eyed the creature in the tank slowly sliming it's way up the glass. Why on Earth had they brought a snail all the way back from the mainland?

"Ah, this isn't just any old snail! This is a baby African Land Snail!"

"You don't mean...?"

"That George is actually a Georgina?" Scott laughed. "Yes, I'm afraid so! She laid some eggs not long after they landed. This is one of the hatchlings. Emily gave him to me as an apology for the reactor exploding."

"I was thinking of taking him up to Five before he got too big." John said. "You know, to continue the family tradition."

"Snails in space, who would have thought it..." Jeff muttered, inspecting the creature closely. "Well, I must say, this is certainly one of the more...unusual... rewards we've ever received from a rescue... So, er, have you given it have a name yet?"

"Well, It was a matter of debate..."

"No kidding!" Alan snorted.

"But we eventually did come to an agreement."

"Everyone," Scott announced. "I'd like you all to say hello to Buzz."

"Ah, I see." Jeff nodded knowingly. "Named after Buzz Aldrin I assume?"

"Well... No. Not exactly..."

And so it was that a new member joined the ranks of International Rescue. A member who, while not able to be of any serviceable use to the organisation, would go on to not only capture the hearts of the Tracy family, but those of the rest of the inhabitants of the island, and soon was adopted as an unofficial mascot, to serve as a reminder to never give up on a mission, but most of all, to never leave another behind. And that beloved member was an African Land Snail called Buzz.

* * *

**A/N: Well, tis finally done! About twice as long as I had planned it to be, but it is finished, completed, Ta-Da! (Ok, I'm done!) Hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Balek out!**


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